"I should rather think not!" said Jock, with a short laugh.

"Then, except as a beautiful object, setting herself forth in conscious
brightness, like that emblem of woman yonder," said MTutor with a wave
of his hand, admiring, familiar, but somewhat contemptuous, towards the
moon, "what do we want with that feminine influence? Our lives are set
to higher uses, and occupied with other aims."

Jock was perfectly satisfied with this profession of faith. He went
along the street with his tutor's arm in his, and a vague elation as of
something settled and concluded upon in his mind. Their footsteps rang
upon the pavement with a manly tramp as they paced away from the light
on the bridge into the shadow of the old houses with their red roofs.
They had gone some way before, being above all things loyal, Jock
thought it right to put in a proviso. "Not intellectually, perhaps," he
said, "but I can't forget how much I owe to my sister. I should have
been a most forlorn little wretch when I was a child, and I shouldn't be
much now, but for Lucy standing by me. It's not well to forget that, is
it, sir? though Lucy is not at all clever," he added in an undertone.

"You are a loyal soul," said MTutor, with a pressure of his arm, "but
Woman does not mean our mothers and sisters." Here he permitted himself
a little laugh. "It shows me how much inferior is my position to that of
your youth, my dear boy," he said, "when you give me such an answer.
Believe me it is far finer than anything you suppose me to be able to
say."

Jock did not know how to respond to this speech. It half angered, half
pleased him, but on the whole he was more ashamed of the supposed
youthfulness than satisfied with the approbation. No one, however young,
likes the imputation of innocence; and Jock had feelings rising within
him of which he scarcely knew the meaning, but which made him still more
sensible of the injustice of this view. He was too proud, however, to
explain himself even if he had been able to do so, and the little way
that remained was trodden in silence. The boy, however, could not help a
curious sensation of superiority as he went to his room through the
sleeping-house, feeling the stillness of the slumber into which he
stole, treading very quietly that he might not disturb any one. He
stopped for a moment with a candle in his hand and looked down the long
passage with its line of closed doors on each side, holding his breath
with a half s